


Life and Times on the Material Plane (and Others as Needed)

by jafdan



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: All OC's - Freeform, i have to get them out somehow and to somewhere, i'm dm a lot, literally just my oc's and their stories, my players don't let me use all of my characters, or don't interact with them enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jafdan/pseuds/jafdan
Summary: You know that feeling when you write too much backstory for your characters and can never share it? That frustrated feeling when you think your character is SO COOL but no one asks about them? You even drop little hints about some world-changing secret and no one bites! Well, these are the stories of a variety of PC's and NPC's I've created over time and wish I could share just a little bit more about them than a story permits.





	Life and Times on the Material Plane (and Others as Needed)

Hera used the back of her forearm to wipe the sweat from her brow. She was far too old to be racing against young men, but Kenneth was a good lad and Hera was more worried about his form than embarrassing herself. It’s just that she was also far better at chopping wood than him. What had started as a lesson about the difference between slicing through enemies and chopping wood had quickly progressed to a “Battle of the Brawn” where Hera, Kenneth and their stocky dwarf friend Baldrin lined up with simple axes, blocks of wood, and a competitive nature that would have better served them marching to their next destination. However, the owner of the inn would be willing to feed them for free for chopping through all this wood and the women of the town needed a show; Kenneth, for all of his dumb luck, had great shoulders.

Hera tossed the last halves of her chopped wood into the finished pile and victoriously swung her ax to her shoulder. “Gotta do better than that next time, kid. And Baldrin, you didn’t even cut anything!”

Kenneth grunted through his next swing. “Come on Hera. Not all of us have your Orcish endurance.”

Baldrin looked up from his ax. “This ax could barely cut twigs, let only wood! See! It’s weak and dull, barely worth my attention…”

Baldrin continued to grumble to himself. He was trying to sharpen the ax, but even Hera could tell he was a bit overzealous. The metal was cheap, but it was an ax for chopping wood owned by an innkeeper in a small town along a scantily traveled road. Where would the owner obtain a Dwarven woodcutter? Why would she have one?

“We need the done by nightfall, dwarf,” Hera said. “There are mouths to feed and rooms to heat. Please don’t take up too much of our time.”

“Oh blast it!” Baldrin stood and grabbed his ax. A block was already standing and waiting for him. He cleaved it in two easily with his battle ax. Kenneth cheered him on; Hera found herself smiling.

“Isn’t that just a waste of good Dwarven craftsmanship?” Hera heckled.

“What greater cause is there of Dwarven axes than proving the superiority of Dwarven skill?” Baldrin quickly cut through a few more blocks. He had set a quick pace and Hera wondered if he’d be able to keep it up. He was a strong man and smarter than the rest of their group combined, but wisdom was not his forte. 

Hera sat back to watch the two men race through their remaining blocks of wood. She felt the muscles in her shoulders tense and spasm, and she rolled them to stretch them out. It had been years since she had swung an ax with such fervor. She was quite a few years younger then, too. Kenneth was right; if it hadn’t been for her Orcish heritage, she probably wouldn’t have won this competition.

But she did win, even won it while being middle-aged. She was going to rub that in Kenneth’s face for weeks.

Hera found herself smiling at the dwarf and human. She could hear their other party mates laughing and talking in the inn nearby. Alistair and Maureen were teasing the Professor, and she was certain Lorathian was ogling Kenneth from the window, with Morthos whispering perverted nonsense in Lorathian’s ear. She felt a warmth spread in her chest and she thought that it might be comfort.

Hera closed her eyes. She wanted to appreciate this moment. It was the first peaceful moment the group had in weeks. She took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled slowly from her mouth. She focused on the pain in her muscles and the warm sun on her back. The sharp cracking of wood as it split and was tossed into a wood pile were reminders of more peaceful times. There were people walking through the street, chattering about animals, babies and the weather. Her friends were bickering about watches, when they would leave in the morning and failed romantic rendezvous.

She thought about her home – miles away - and her garden – left unattended. Hera remembered how silent it was during the days and the boring routine she had developed there. She remembered her times before then, when she was a mercenary, spending more time fighting out of jail than fighting monsters or saving town-folks. She thought of times further back, when she was training with her Order or spending too much time alone as a child.

“Hera! Soup’s on!” Morthos called.

Hera opened her eyes to the Tiefling waving her over. She smiled at him, orc fangs flashing.

“Coming!”

Yes, Hera decided. She rather liked it here.

**Author's Note:**

> Hera is a half-orc monk. She has lived a mostly solitary life, just focused on growing a garden around her home. She likes gardening and being alone. After years of being a mercenary, she kinda get fed up with meeting new people. A lot of them died, some of them betrayed her and most were just really racist towards her. She got a few letters from a few friends that were still alive, but mercenaries don't have long careers. Currently she is adventuring with a new group of friends and feels reinvigorated. They have not been commissioned to save the world, but are merely doing so out of the goodness of their hearts. It is the first time she has adventured for a moral reason. She loves it.


End file.
